


Here Comes The Sun

by batsy_rocks



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: A Dad Getting Advice From a Childless Man, Adopted Children, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Because Bruce, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Bruce Wayne is Not a Billionaire, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Bruce Wayne is a Hot Mess, Bruce Wayne is a Tired Dad™, Bruce Wayne's Long List of Messy Relationships, Chance Meetings, Clark Kent Is Good With Kids, Clark Kent is Not Superman, Clark Kent is a Ray of Sunshine, Conversations, Dorks, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Father-Son Relationship, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Light-Hearted, M/M, Meeting the Family, Parenthood, Single Parent Bruce Wayne, Smitten Clark Kent, Some Humor, Strangers, and that's canon, but he's still pretty well off, he's trying okay, parenting is hard, protective batkids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-04-24 07:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14350959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batsy_rocks/pseuds/batsy_rocks
Summary: Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing.Then they meet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, [one of my fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667840) went pass 1000 kudos recently and to celebrate I'm posting this cute new idea I had. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for being awesome!
> 
> Title obviously from the song by The Beatles.

Clark was passing through the small park across the Daily Planet on his way to his favorite deli when he caught sight of a man sitting on one of the benches, head cradled between his hands and altogether looking like he was having a terrible day. The reporter paused in his stride, watching him.

A few people walked past the man, all of them going their way without sparing him a glance. Clark would like to think they were just in a hurry, but the truth was they probably didn't care. He learned quickly people in the city were too busy with their own lives to care about anyone else.

His lunch break wasn't that long, but he could save time if he grabbed something from the coffee shop a couple of blocks away from the Planet rather than walking across the park and back. It should give him enough time to make sure the man was alright, or mostly alright. Decision made, Clark turned back and walked to where the lone man in the suit was sitting.

Sometimes all you needed to feel better was a willing ear or even just proof that someone gave a damn.

The man didn't look up as he approached, most likely assuming he was just someone else passing by, so he made sure to keep his voice low and gentle when he addressed him.

"Um, hi. Are you okay?"

Clark was met with a pair of deep cobalt blue eyes as the man took his hands away and lifted his head to face him- and wow. Even with the frown lines around his mouth and between his eyebrows the man was gorgeous.

"Excuse me."

The tense words were enough to pull Clark out of his thoughts with a grimace. There was some more of that city charm he was starting to get familiar with. "Right. I'm sorry for butting in like this. You just seemed preoccupied and I thought I should ask if you were alright."

"I'm fine," The man replied, eyeing him warily. "Thank you."

The last part was added as an afterthought and didn't sound particularly grateful. Just something added out of politeness. The man was obviously not in the mood for company, so Clark nodded and offered him a self-deprecating smile. "Sorry again. I guess you can take the man out of the small town, but you can't take the small-town upbringing out of him."

The man's tense posture relaxed slightly. "I- it's fine. I'm sorry for reacting like that."

"It's okay," Clark said with an easy shrug. "I guess you're just not used to strangers asking that."

"I'm not, and, as you can see I'm not having a very good day."

The reporter smiled. "There's no need to apologize. We all have those days."

"Do you also have four children driving you insane and making you question every minute whether or not you're qualified to take care of them?" He asked dryly.

Clark could do nothing but blink down at the handsome man. Kids. Four of them. Jesus.

"That was probably too much information, huh?"

"No! I mean- I know we're total strangers and it may sound weird, but if you feel talking about whatever it's bothering you may help I will be happy to listen."

"You would?"

"Of course," He assured without hesitation.

The man leaned back on the bench, an eyebrow arched. "Some more of those small-town manners, I take it?"

"Something like that. But I'm also a reporter, so I have it on good authority I'm a very good listener. And I promise to keep it all off the record," He joked.

The man's piercing eyes regarded him for a moment, long enough for him to start bouncing little on the balls of his feet and even reach to push his glasses up his nose like he did when he was nervous.

"You work at the Daily Planet, correct?"

"How do you know?"

"Well," The man said with a small curl of lips. "You can see the globe at the top of the Planet building over there and you came from that general direction, so I assumed that was the case."

"Oh. Right." Clark could feel his cheeks warming up a little. He held out his hand. "I'm Clark Kent."

"Bruce Wayne," He said, taking his hand in a firm grip.

Clark found himself studying the man more carefully. He was very handsome, there was no question about that. He had jet black hair, deep blue eyes, chiseled features, and his shoulders were broad under his nice tailored suit. And okay, he really should stop checking him out. The man had children for god's sake!

Though now that he thought about it, he seemed to be maybe in his mid-thirties, so he was definitely way too young to have so many kids.

The reporter cleared his throat. "So, four kids, huh? You must be pretty busy."

Bruce's expression softened a little, the corner of his mouth tugging upward just for a moment at the mention of his sons. "That's an understatement if I ever heard one, but at least I have help to handle them."

"That's nice. It must be a relief to have someone you can trust to help in raising your kids."

Bruce nodded. "It is. I don't know what I would do without him."

Him. It was a man and not a woman waiting for him at home. That was- a little surprising what with the four kids and all, even if Metropolis was a rather progressive liberal city.

"Your partner must be a very special man."

"He- What?! No! Alfred is not- I don't have a partner."

"Oh." Okay. Now Clark was curious about who this _Alfred_ was but he didn't ask. It wasn't his place.

Bruce squinted a little as the sunlight hit his eyes after Clark shifted his position. "You may as well sit down if you're still willing to hear me out. Though I should warn you it probably wouldn't be a very exciting tale."

Clark laughed softly as he complied. "It's a good thing I wasn't looking for entertainment, then."

"It is," The man said with a wry twitch of his lips that distracted Clark for a second.

"Alright. I have to warn you I need to be back in the office in twenty minutes, but I'm all yours until then." Clark proceeded to blush furiously as soon as he realized what he said, and the traces of amusement on the man's face only made it worse.

Bruce tilted his head slightly as he watched him. "You're on your lunch break, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then we should go grab lunch. My treat." Clark opened his mouth to protest, but he waved him off. "You've agreed to listen to me whine about my children for twenty minutes, the least I can do is feed you."

Clark hesitated for a moment before agreeing. How could he say no to a handsome man offering to buy him lunch? Even if it was just to talk about his four kids and the mysterious Alfred.

Bruce nodded, getting to his feet. "Do you have any recommendations? I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with the area."

"I sure do."

"Good. You can lead the way then."

The two strangers walked out of the small park together, ready to share lunch and something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I doing, writing yet another story instead of finishing any of my several unfinished fics? I have no idea. I just know I love SuperBat and my brain just wouldn't shut up about new ideas, so here you have it. Let me know what you think!
> 
> English is not my native language, so any tips or corrections are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

It took them only a couple of minutes to reach the diner nestled between a small used bookstore and a coffee shop, the walk there silent but not uncomfortably so.

Clark couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to the man at his side, watching his face for any reaction. The tailored suit was worth more than Clark's monthly salary and the ease with which it was worn told him Bruce wasn't strange to wasting a small fortune in his wardrobe. So, this was definitely _not_ the kind of place someone like him would visit.

The expression on Bruce's face wasn't particularly easy to read, but the best guess he had was curious, so Clark relaxed a little.

The diner was old, with its linoleum floors, worn-out red vinyl booths, and chrome tables- the one they were sitting on had a little stain of dry ketchup on one corner. Clark was on his way to becoming a regular here, coming whenever he had the chance, sometimes with Lois and Jimmy or some other people from the Planet.

"This is strange," Bruce mused out loud as the waitress walked away with their order.

"I'm sorry?"

"I was just thinking how strange it is to be here about to have lunch and talk about my children with someone I just met."

"Oh." Clark blinked. He couldn't blame him for feeling apprehensive about this now that he had more time to think about it. "We don't have to do this if you don't feel comfortable. We can talk about something else."

Bruce seemed to ponder that for a moment, his sharp blue eyes never leaving his face. "Thank you, but I think I need to. It might be good to have an outside perspective."

Any comment Clark could have made was interrupted by the waitress's return as she placed a pair of ceramic white cups on the table, leaving with the promise of returning soon with their food.

"You don't have kids, do you?" Bruce asked before he could say anything, and then took a sip of his black coffee.

"I don't. What gave it away?" Clark looked up from where he had been stirring the cream and sugar he added to his own cup.

"People with kids usually aren't very interested in hearing other parents' complains when they have enough themselves. At least not without adding their own," Bruce added dryly.

"I guess that's true. I can remember my mother complaining to her friends about me and hear them doing the same about their kids."

Bruce hummed softly before bringing the cup to his lips again.

Clark took a sip of his coffee as well in the silence that followed. Bruce didn't seem particularly interested in starting the conversation, so he would need to prompt him a little. They didn't have a lot of time after all.

"You have four, right?" He got a nod in response. "How old are they?"

"The oldest is seventeen and the youngest seven. I can show you a photo," He was watching him expectantly, so Clark nodded dutifully.

Bruce pulled the phone out of his breast pocket and moved his fingers over the screen for a moment. A smile tugged the corner of his lips just before sliding the phone across the table.

Clark looked down at the photo. The first thibng he saw was the bright smile on the older teen's face as he hugged one-armed a tiny kid with large green eyes and a frown on his face. That same boy was eyeing the slightly older kid at his other side. That other kid with blue eyes framed by a pair of glasses was smiling shyly at the camera while a taller one had an arm thrown loosely over his shoulders, a crooked smirk and mischievous blue eyes under shaggy bangs.

"Like I said, the oldest is seventeen. His name is Dick. Then there's Jason, he's fifteen. Tim is ten and Damian seven."

"They seem like good kids." He commented, handing the phone back and watching the other man look down at the screen with a gentle expression on his face.

"They are. For the most part, anyway."

The food arrived a second later, and Clark couldn’t help but feel a little pride when he saw the appreciative look on Bruce's face after the first bite. He knew the place wasn't much to look at, but the food was delicious and the owner was a nice woman too.

It took only a little prodding to get Bruce talking while they eat, and Clark was surprised not by what he said, but by the way he said it. He seemed to have a way with words, giving as few details as possible but being clear and concise. He painted a very vivid picture of his kids.

Bruce talked about the growing number of fights he had with his two eldest sons, which ended with shouting matches with Dick and curses and insults (and sometimes even objects) being thrown by Jason. Then there was the animosity between the younger kids, started by Damian. They couldn’t be left alone for two minutes because things ended in tears, blows, or both.

Clark listened attentively to every word, and it wasn't until Bruce fell silent than he dared to speak.

"I don't know if you're looking for advice, and even if you are I'm not sure you should take it from someone without children." Clark flashed him a sheepish grin. "But it sounds to me like Dick and Jason are just being teenagers."

"Alfred told me the same thing. He's my- He's like a father to me." Bruce explained.

"And yet you don't believe him."

"It's not that I don't believe him, I just ..." He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

 _'You think it's your fault.'_ Clark thought but didn't dare say it. He watched him for a moment, thinking. "Well, I don't think you can force them to act differently, teenagers can be stubborn like that, but you can work on your own behavior. And I'm not saying that what you're doing is wrong because I don't know that, but maybe you could try to react better."

Bruce looked doubtful, and maybe a little annoyed. "And how should I do that exactly?"

The words were icy, but not outright hostile, so Clark pondered it for a moment.

"You could make an effort to listen to what they have to say." The other man opened his mouth to speak, but Clark raised his palms. "Again, I'm not saying you don't do that already, just, you know. Throwing out ideas here."

He watched him with narrowed eyes before giving him a tiny nod.

"I think that hearing them out and then proceeding to explain why they're wrong or why they can't do something would have a better effect that shutting them down right away or shouting back at them. You're the adult here and they're the kids. It's your job to keep a cold head and not get carried away, no matter what they say. Teenagers are bound to say things they don't mean."

Bruce averted his eyes, leading Clark to think there had been some harsh words exchanged recently.

"You could also let them get away with a few things sometimes. Nothing big or dangerous," He added right way. "But little things that make them feel that you're willing to meet them halfway if they're good kids."

"Are you sure you don't have kids?"

He chuckled. "Pretty sure, yeah. But what I do have is a wonderful Mom and years of hearing her give advice to other moms."

Bruce lowered his eyes, fingers playing with his refilled cup of coffee.

Clark had no idea what prompted that reaction, but before he could ask if he was okay the other man looked up and started speaking.

"I know they're good kids, and most of the time I feel like I can't be doing everything wrong when I see how healthy and well-adjusted they are, but sometimes I can't help but wonder if I did the right thing taking them in." Bruce's voice was soft, almost a whisper as he gave voice to his fears. "If it wouldn’t be better for them to be with a normal family that can give them the stability and support I can't."

"They're adopted."

"They are. All except Damian, though I didn't even know he existed until a few months ago," He added bitterly.

Bruce didn't say anything else and while Clark couldn't deny he was curious, he would never even consider asking for more. Any explanation he could think of as to why he met his seven-year-old son just months ago wasn't pretty, and definitely not something you'd want to share with a stranger.

"What?" He growled.

"Nothing. I just- I was adopted too so it's really good to meet people willing to give kids a chance to have a family again." It may not be what Clark was thinking just now, but it was still true.

"Oh."

Clark offered him a smile over the rim of his cup.

"I don't know if you know this, but you're not the only person struggling with how to be a good parent," He told him, recalling all the overheard conversations in the bus or the checkout line in the supermarket, and the many experts giving advice to desperate parents on TV. "I know that's not particularly helpful, but maybe it should make you consider this isn't just about you doing it all wrong."

Bruce opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the ringing of Clark's phone. He gave him an apologetic look as he answered.

"Where the hell are you, Smallville?!" Lois' voice demanded as soon as he picked up.

Clark winced, both by the loud voice in his ear and the time on the clock. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Time just got away from me, but I'll be back in a little bit."

"You better."

He turned to the other man, slipping his phone back in his pocket. "I'm sorry about that. I-"

"Stop. I should be the one apologizing. You said you could stay twenty minutes and we've been here for almost forty." Bruce signaled for the check. "I hope you wouldn't get in trouble for this."

"I wouldn't. Perry, my boss, is pretty laid-back. And Lois is covering for me. I think."

That gave Bruce pause. "Lois. You are not speaking of the famous Lois Lane, are you."

"I am, actually. Are you a fan?"

"Of course. That woman is a force to be reckoned with. Her article last month about the migration crisis was a masterpiece." Bruce paused as the waitress came back with the check, thanking her. "So you're working with her."

"Something like that," Clark grinned. It was always great to meet people who appreciate the wonder that was Lois Lane. "I don't have the experience to truly work with her yet, but I'm learning."

"Hmm." Bruce turned back to him after he paid the check. "Can I get your number?"

"What?"

"I asked if I can get your number. You know, in case I need to vent again about my failure as a parent."

"You're not a failure," Clark told him with a frown. He pulled the notebook and pen from his pocket and started writing. "And I will give you my number with the condition that you call even if your kids aren't giving you any troubles."

"I can do that."

Only then Clark handed him the piece of paper. "Good."

Bruce folded it carefully and put it in his pocket before looking up again. "Thank you for doing this. I will think about what you said. Maybe run it by Alfred."

The tone was teasing so Clark smiled. "You should do that. Run it by Alfred, I mean. It sounds like he actually knows what he's doing."

The answering smile on Bruce's face wasn't just in his lips but reached his eyes, making tiny creases appear at the corners. Jesus! And he had thought Bruce was gorgeous before.

They walked out of the diner together, but neither moved to walk away after the glass doors closed behind them.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Clark."

He looked down at the hand before taking it, meeting Bruce's eyes. "It was nice to meet you too. And I meant it."

It was Bruce how turned away first with an unreadable expression on his face and a small nod.

Clark watched him for a couple of seconds before remembering he still had a job to get back to. He found himself smiling even as he hurried back to the Planet, dodging people along the way. It wasn't just the satisfaction of helping someone, but the possibility of something more coming out of this chance meeting.

His phone pinged just as he entered the building, and when he pulled it out Clark found a new text from an unknown number.

_How do you feel about dinner? No family drama included._

He looked down at the phone with a dopey smile.

_I would love to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was suppossed to be just a two-shot because I just can't wtite long things, but my muse decided otherwise so there will be a couple more chapters. We'll find more about Bruce and Clark and their lives in this universe, as well as the Batkids.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos, and please do let me know what you think of this new chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Five days had already passed since the heated fight that prompted Bruce to get in the car and drive aimlessly around the city until he ended up in a park somewhere, and things in the Wayne household were still tense. Jason still refused to say more than two forced and frosty words to him, while Dick had used the opportunity to perfect his passive-aggressive tendencies.

The only upside -if it could be called that- was the lack of scuffles between Tim and Damian, and if it were any other time he would have been grateful for it. As it was, he couldn't help but feel worried and ashamed that this conflict was affecting them as well.

Bruce knew he needed to speak with Dick and Jason again, even without Alfred's pointed looks, but he hadn't done that yet. Things at the company had been hectic lately, so he had been pouring all his energy and focus into it, letting the issues at home rest for now because trying to deal with that on top of work wasn't something he was willing to try.

And, if Bruce was honest, he was still trying to think of the best way to handle it. God, how he missed the times when a light talk, a scoop of ice cream and watching a movie or reading a book together fixed everything.

He was the main responsible for this whole mess, Bruce knew that. He was the parent here and as such, he should have done a better job of handling things. But, even now he wasn't certain he would do a better job this time around.

Why did it had to be so hard?

Bruce let out a deep sigh, trying to push the issue aside as he focused on his reflection in the mirror. He frowned, looking down at his burgundy tie and gray suit as the thought that maybe he was overdressed crossed his mind. Again.

It had been an impulsive decision, sending the text after they parted ways, but not one he could bring himself to regret. Clark was not only a very attractive man but he was a genuinely kind one as well. A rare combination indeed. And he willingly heard him talk about his children non-stop for a long time too.

The fact he didn't scare him off after that had to be a good sign.

A more rational person would have taken the time to handle his children _before_ even thinking of going out on a date, but between Damian's arrival and the growing conflicts at home, it had been a long time since he went out with someone and he was starving for that kind of contact. That and he didn't want to take the risk Clark may get tired of waiting for him.

So, he was going to go out tonight and de-stress, and tomorrow he would deal with Dick and Jason. It was a good plan. Probably. Alfred hadn't shown his displeasure, at least.

Bruce turned away from the mirror after one last glance and shoved his phone in his pocket before leaving the bedroom.

Dick whistled as soon as he saw him standing at the threshold of the den, drawing the attention of the other boys in the room. "What's with the nice suit, B?"

Bruce finished adjusting his cufflinks before looking up. "I'm going out."

"You came back from work like one hour ago," Tim pointed out from where he was lying on the rug, his laptop open before him.

"It's not something work-related."

"Then where are you going?"

He paused for a beat. "I have a date."

"You have a date," Dick echoed slowly, blinking up at him.

"Yes."

Jason abandoned any pretense of ignoring the conversation and finally looked away from his phone. "Please tell me it's not Jezebel."

"Or Selina."

"Or Harvey," Dick added quietly.

Bruce froze, gaze moving from Jason to Tim before meeting Dick's wary eyes. He couldn't say he was truly surprised by his son's reaction, and that made him feel even worse. Even Jason and Tim's reactions were understandable.

He ended things with Harvey after he slapped Dick for talking back during one of the man's bad moods. Tim liked Selina just fine, but her love for cats didn't go well with Tim's allergies, making it hard for them to be in the same room. Jezebel wasn't exactly thrilled about the boys to begin with, but had been willing to give it a try. She quickly lost patience with Jason's initial hostile and unsophisticated behavior, building a deep dislike between them.

The fact he went out again with Selina after the initial break up and still kept in touch with Harvey and Jezebel as well probably didn't help matters. It pained him to see the bad example he was setting for his children with his convoluted relationships, but he didn't think he could change it.

At least they hadn't been around for the whole mess with Thomas Elliot, he thought with a grimace.

Bruce looked away from Dick only to find himself watching the newest addition to the family. Damian had remained silent during the whole exchange, most likely because he was not aware of the history behind every name, but he was clearly paying attention.

"No, no, and no."

The three older boys exchanged a meaningful look.

"Is not Talia, is it?" Jason whispered. He needn’t have bothered. Damian's shoulders tensed as soon as his mother's name was spoken.

Bruce shot Jason a look. Not only because of the reaction it caused on Damian, but because he couldn't believe his sons thought he would get back with Talia after what she did with Damian. He wasn't that bad.

"Then who is it?"

"Someone I met the other day," He admitted, leaving out the fact he spent close to an hour talking about them with said someone.

"Do we get a name?" Dick asked, perking up a little now that they left behind the topic of Bruce's _peculiar_ exes.

"His name is Clark."

"Last name?" Tim asked nonchalantly.

"I don't think that's any of your business," He told him flatly.

"Of course it is! What if he's a serial killer or something?" Jason asked. "We need at least a full name we can give to the police."

"I thought you didn't care." The boy just glared back, making Bruce sigh. "I'm sure you wouldn't have to worry about that, but _if_ it happens Alfred will give the police all the information they may need."

Jason muttered a curse under his breath, which Bruce chose to let slide this time. Damian and Tim were far enough away not to have heard and it wasn't even the worst curse Jason had used in the last couple of days. Sometimes he felt that getting him to stop cursing was a losing battle.

Bruce looked down at the watch on his wrist to make sure he still had time and when he looked up again he found all of his children watching him. Damian looked away as soon as he looked in his direction.

"So, how did you meet him?"

The irritation at the less than innocent attempt to gather information quickly gave way to fondness as Bruce looked down at Tim sitting cross-legged on the rug, his face relaxed but eyes bright and sharp. He had never been particularly comfortable talking about his relationships (or attempts at it), but Alfred did keep telling him he should try to be more open if he expected his children to do the same.

"I met him in the park." He didn't miss the surprised looks he received.

"That's ... nice."

Bruce merely grunted in answer.

"So what? You bumped into some guy and then asked him out?" Bruce didn't dignify that with a reply. "He didn't try to rob you, did he?"

"Of course not!" Bruce said gruffly but didn't dare look any of his sons in the eye. He was sure he wasn't the only one remembering the time Selina pickpocketed him, or in a slightly related note, the time Jason tried to steal the tires of his car. They all knew what his reaction had been in both occasions, and it hadn't been calling the police.

God. He truly was a terrible example in every way possible. What the hell had he been thinking when he took them in? Bruce should have learned after Dick at least.

"Where are you taking him?" Tim asked, breaking the tense silence one more time.

"We're having dinner, of course, and no," He added. "I'm not going to tell you the name of the restaurant."

Tim made a face but didn't say anything.

"Do we know at least get to know what time you're coming back?"

"In a couple of hours, maybe. I'm not sure yet."

"Sound like you're planning to get more than just dinner," Jason commented dryly, making Bruce turn to glare at him. He didn't get to reprimand him, however, because someone else spoke before he could.

"You have no right to speak to Father that way, Todd."

His eyes turned to the boy who had been sitting silent and still in an armchair, clearly keeping his distance from the others even while staying in the same room -Dick probably had to do with Damian being here at all-. But Bruce wasn't the only one looking at him in surprise. The unexpected reply made Jason pause a few seconds before speaking.

"He's not my dad so I speak to him however the hell I want. Why don't you shut up and go back to Mommy, pipsqueak."

"Jason, that's enough," Bruce growled just as Damian ran out of the room. He didn't call him back. It would be best if he spoke to him alone before leaving. Dick ran after him a moment later, leaving Bruce to deal with Jason.

"You had no right to say that. Damian is my son too and he has a place here, just like the rest of you do." There was no response. "You will apologize to him."

"Whatever," The boy muttered without meeting his eyes.

Bruce resisted the impulse to scold him further since one look at the teenager confirmed Jason already knew he acted wrong. He should have intervened before things escalated to this point, but he had been too stunned by Damian's intervention to do it.

The boy had been living here for a little over four months now and Bruce didn't get the feeling Damian liked him any more than he had when he first arrived. Alfred kept insisting they just needed time to get to know each other, but Bruce hadn't been so sure about that. At least until now.

Damian wouldn't have intervened on his behalf if he didn't like him at least a bit, right?

Only Tim remained in the room by the time Bruce pulled himself out of his thoughts. He sighed. "I will be back before midnight. Can you help me keep your brothers out of trouble until then?"

"Can't make any promises," Tim said with a shrug.

Bruce nodded tiredly, taking one more look at his watch before heading in the direction of Damian's bedroom. He probably should send Clark a text to let him know he was going to be late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first time writing Tim and Damian, so that's pretty much why they barely spoke- especially Damian. Let's hope I can give them a few more lines further on ;)
> 
> Also, I'm sorry about the wait. I needed time to figure out what the hell I was going to do with this now that it no longer was a two-shot (aside from the few random ideas I had), and then the Bat kids happened. I hope you enjoyed it and please do let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a short POV change for a bit near the end, but it's pretty obvious so I didn't bother marking it.

Between dealing with his children and the usual Friday night traffic made even worse by an accident, he was already thirty-eight minutes late when he finally arrived at the restaurant. It would be even longer if he didn't know the city like the palm of his hand or if he hadn't been willing to steer away from busy streets and use a slightly rougher path.

Metropolis may be the sparkling city of tomorrow, but no city was perfect.

The conversation with Damian had gone a lot better than he had anticipated, probably because Dick had the time to speak to the boy before Bruce did. For some reason, Damian didn't seem to dislike Dick as much as the rest of the family, so he listened to him sometimes. It wasn't an ideal situation, but Bruce was grateful for any help he could get in that regard.

Bruce was the first to admit he wasn't the best at expressing emotions, but he still did his best to reassure the sullen boy of his place in the family, silently vowing to do a better job to help him integrate.

Maybe a family night was in order. It had been a while since they were all in the same room for something other than sharing meals. But, for now, he could at least enjoy a night out without worrying about Damian running away or trying to get revenge.

Bruce made sure to call Clark on his way here to let him know he was running late, and while the man had been understanding and kind, he couldn't help but felt guilty. He canceled their plans a few days ago due to his work and now he was late. It wasn't the kind of impression he wanted to give, but at this point, canceled plans and late arrivals have become the norm rather than something unusual.

It was only fair that Clark understood what he was getting into right from the start, he thought with a sigh.

He took a moment to fix his hair with the help of the rear-view mirror before getting out of the car and hurrying to the entrance.

The restaurant was crowded, but the owner was a friend of his so he made sure to reserve a table by the corner, slightly away from all the people so they could converse comfortably. And also because he had never been good with crowds.

He thanked the nice lady that guided him to his table, watching as Clark sat there with only a glass of water before him and his attention fixed on the phone between his hands. The guilt that came up at the sight didn't stop him from noticing how handsome the other man looked with his dark hair pushed away from his face and the powder blue shirt and navy tie combination fitting him perfectly.

Bruce really hoped he hadn't already ruined this before it could even begin.

He forced his lips to curl into a small smile in reply to the smile that appeared on Clark's face as soon as he saw him, but the smile slipped away as he took his seat. "I'm very sorry for keeping you waiting."

"Don't worry about it. I got just enough time to finish the draft of one of my articles, so it's alright." Clark held up his phone with a small wave.

The reply sounded honest, and Bruce couldn't detect any traces of annoyance or frustration, so he allowed himself to relax slightly as they reached for their respective menus.

"What did you write about?"

"Ah. It's nothing interesting, really."

Bruce merely arched an eyebrow in inquiry, attention fully back on the man before him. He had asked mostly out of politeness since truly relevant articles most likely weren't written in the middle of crowdy restaurants in only thirty minutes, but now his curiosity was piqued.

"It's an article about the 'What The Fluff' Challenge."

"I'm sorry what?"

"Um. It's one of those viral challenges going around, except this one is pretty harmless and cute. It's about pet owners tricking their pets into thinking they disappeared." Bruce merely blinked at him. "Here. You can [watch a video."](https://www.cuteness.com/13713160/the-12-most-insane-dog-reactions-to-the-what-the-fluff-challenge.)

The video left Bruce just as confused about why this was considered news, but he said nothing as he handed him the phone back.

Clark looked more than a little embarrassed, avoiding eye contact. "I'm still pretty new at the Planet, so sometimes I'm tasked with writing articles that aren't truly relevant."

"It must be frustrating," Bruce commented sympathetically.

"A little bit," Clark admitted with a shrug. "But I'm learning a lot and I've already co-written a couple of bigger pieces, so it's alright. Besides, I actually enjoyed writing about something nice for once."

That made sense with so many terrible news needing to be shared from all over the world.

The conversation was put on hold by the waitress' arrival, which was a good thing because as interested as he was on getting to know the man in front of him, Bruce only had a sandwich at lunch and he was feeling kind of hungry.

They greeted the woman with matching smiles and then proceeded to give their orders.

"So," Bruce spoke up as soon as the waitress walked away. "How long have you been the newbie at the Daily Planet?"

"Only six months," Clark answered, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That's why I came to Metropolis. For the opportunity to work at a large newspaper like the Daily Planet or the Star."

He hummed. "You didn't mention before where you are from."

"I'm from a place called Smallville. In Kansas."

"Smallville," Bruce echoed.

Clark's bashful smile was a bright and beautiful thing, distracting Bruce easily.

"What about you? Is Metropolis your hometown?"

The question pulled Bruce's attention back to the conversation. "It isn't. I'm from Gotham, actually."

"Gotham, huh? That's-"

"The city is a hellhole, I know," Bruce dismissed with a hand wave. "I moved to Metropolis when I was eight and have been living here ever since."

He traveled back to Gotham a few times over the years, but never felt the need to stay longer than was necessary. It was his parents' city and he had plenty of good memories of the place, but he would never even think of taking his sons there. That place was poisonous and he would forever be grateful Alfred took him out of there when he did.

Bruce was too immersed in his thoughts to hear Clark's question, so he had to ask him to repeat himself.

"I was just saying you haven't told me what you do."

"I'm on business," Bruce said cryptically. The expression on Clark's face made him add, "I'm an executive of a small company. But I just spend the whole week buried in work so I'll rather not talk about that if you don't mind."

"Of course."

The food arrived before they could steer the conversation to another topic, conveniently distracting them with its mouth-watering smell and delicious appearance.

They resumed their conversation after a moment, and, contrary to Bruce's intention to keep his kids out of it tonight, he found he couldn't stop himself from sharing far more pleasant stories about their antics and a few other things about himself. But, unlike last time, he also listened to Clark talk about his life on Metropolis and his parents back in Smallville.

"I don't think I've ever been to a fair. In fact, I ..." Bruce trailed off mid-sentence, sharp eyes fixed on a spot several tables away, where he caught a small glimpse of something. Someone.

"Hey," Clark called softly, concern evident on his face. "Everything okay?"

"I'm very sorry about this." He made sure to meet Clark's eyes as he spoke. He took his phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear a second later.

Clark looked more than a little puzzled but remained silent as he watched him.

"Come here _right now,"_   He growled into the phone, ending the call without waiting for a reply.

"Um. Everything okay?" Clark asked again.

"No," Bruce replied curtly before turning away to glare at the figures walking closer. He saw Clark turn to follow his gaze, understanding dawning on his face as he recognized the boys.

A waitress appeared at his side as soon as Dick and Jason stopped by their table. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"There isn't. Thank you," Bruce added with a forced smile.

The woman gave him an uneasy smile before slowly walking away.

"Sit down," He ordered with a pointed look. The boys exchanged a look but complied without a word.

It would have been better to have them in front of him rather than one at each side, but Bruce made sure to look at one and then the other as he spoke. " _What_ are you doing here?"

"We came to vet him," Jason said while pointing a thumb in Clark's direction.

Bruce took a deep breath and very deliberately didn't look at the other man. "How did you even get here?"

"We called an Uber," Dick replied quickly before his brother could speak.

"Tim and Damian?"

"They're at home."

That was something, at least. He looked down at his unfinished meal for a moment before looking at his sons again. "I'm dealing with you two back home. Don't move. I need to call Alfred."

The name was enough to make both boys lower their gazes.

Bruce turned to Clark then, aware of the less than polite behavior he had displayed so far. "I'm sorry. I need to-"

"It's fine."

He sent the man a tiny, grateful smile and then turned to shoot matching warning looks in his sons' directions before moving away from the table, phone already in hand.

Clark watched him until he disappeared from view, doing his best not to squirm in his seat as he felt the boys' eyes on him.

"The name's Jason." The youngest said, leaning forward on the table. "And you are?"

"Oh. I'm Clark. Clark Kent," He replied with a smile before turning to the older boy. "And you're Richard, right?"

The brothers only looked back at him with wary and confused expressions.

"Your dad showed me a photo."

They looked more than a little surprised by that fact, but the older recovered quicker. "So, it looks like you guys were having a good time."

"I think so, yes."

"Sorry to crash in like this. We weren't expecting Dad to catch us."

"I'm sure you weren't," Clark replied with a straight face. It was kind of cute, really, to have the two rebel teenagers he had heard about coming to spy on his dad's date. And to think Bruce feared they hated or resented him.

He didn't get the chance to speak more with them because Bruce returned a second later, a grim expression on his face.

Bruce signaled the waitress for the check, sitting back down on his chair to avoid drawing any more attention to them. "Did you at least introduced yourselves and apologized?"

Jason only rolled his eyes, and while Dick didn't look any happier, he at least nodded in reply.

He forced himself to turn to Clark then. "I- I don't even know what to say."

"Well," Clark said pushing his glasses up his nose. "I can say this is the most interesting dinner I've had in a long time."

"I'm sure it has," Bruce replied wryly.

The boys exchanged looks again.

"You know," The youngest said with a particular gleam in his eyes. "Maybe we should invite you over for dinner sometime. To make up for cutting today short."

"Jason-"

"Sure."

Bruce's head snapped in his direction. "Are you serious?"

"I am. If you invite me, of course."

The waitress arrived with the check, forcing Bruce to drag his attention away from the other man. It wasn't easy. Not at all.

"Wait in the car," Bruce ordered as soon as the waitress left again, holding the keys out to his eldest.

A silent war took place then, and while he got Dick to take the car keys fairly quickly, he had to glare at Jason a moment longer to convince him to leave as well. Bruce waited until they were out of sight to let his shoulders loosen up a little.

"I can get it," Clark offered with a nod to the check.

Bruce shook his head, already taking out his credit card. "I invited you. Besides, there is no way I will let you pay after this mess."

"It wasn't that bad, you know."

Bruce's blank expression turned into one of disbelief when he met the other man's face and realized Clark _wasn't_ kidding.

"I would have loved to spend more time with you tonight, of course, but I understand your sons were worried about you, going out with a stranger and all that," Clark added with a shrug.

Nobody could be that perfect. It simply wasn't possible.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "About the invitation they extended-"

"You really shouldn't feel forced to go along with it," Clark interrupted, stealing the words right out of Bruce's mouth. "I think that's going a bit too fast. After all, we only met a few days ago."

"You do realize this is a very transparent ploy to get you into _their_ territory so they can interrogate you mercilessly, right?" He asked, a dark eyebrow arched.

"Of course. I, uh. I want to keep seeing you," He blurted out, a soft blush tinting his cheeks crimson. "And, um, if you're interested in that too, maybe it would be a good idea to reassure your sons I'm not a bad guy so they don't have to do this again."

Bruce could do nothing but stare at him. "You have no idea what you're getting into, do you?"

Clark let out a nervous tiny laugh. "Probably not."

A sharp smirk lifted the corner of his lips. "I guess I'll call you to set something up."

Bruce had no idea what he was getting into either, but watching the beautiful smile lighting up Clark's face, he decided he was very much looking forward to seeing where it got him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the 'What The Fluff' Challenge isn't very recent, but I actually only learned about it while looking for a challenge to have Clark writing about and I fell in love with it. I also think it was better to use this cute one rather than any of the other actually dangerous and stupid challenges around. And you really, really need to watch [this one.](https://twitter.com/EmRunThis/status/1011650169052336129?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw) It just made me melt inside.
> 
> Also, this chapter just showed some of the changes I made in Bruce's past and which I hope explain the few differences in his personality. I don't plan to expand on it further, so feel free to ask any questions you have.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, and please take the time to let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce watched Alfred fondly from where he was sitting at the breakfast bar, blue eyes following him as he moved expertly around the kitchen. The sight brought back memories of years past. Countless evenings spent accompanying Alfred in the kitchen while he did his homework or attempted to assist the older man as he worked.

A warm sensation filled him any time he saw any of the boys doing the same thing, or when he found Alfred teaching Jason, the most adept in the kitchen of the whole bunch.

Bruce may be unable to cook but the simplest things, and yet he was a master of peeling and chopping (as he learned years and years ago under Alfred's watchful eye), so he didn't hesitate to take off his jacket and roll up the sleeves of his shirt as soon as he stepped into the kitchen, and then settle down to help Alfred with the potatoes.

It was almost relaxing, sitting here while his hands moved of their own accord in a familiar cadence, even if, unlike many times before, it didn't fully put him at ease.

Things at the company had settled down again, and to make up for being pretty much absent he had been coming home even earlier than usual, with a little push from Lucius. Of course, that also meant he had no more excuses to continue putting off his talk with Dick and Jason, which had been a good thing in the end.

It was not a pleasant conversation, especially after the boys realized he still wasn't willing to give even an inch, no matter how much he tried to explain his reasoning. The fact he was _amendable_ to ease up on some other restrictions like curfew and such helped a little.

The situation at home was slowly turning back to normal, for which he was grateful.

They hadn't even protested all that much their punishment for sneaking out of the house and crashing his date, but he suspected that had more to do with the fact they were satisfied with what they accomplished that night- which was also part of the reason he was still here in the kitchen, fidgeting with the potato peels.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

The last word made Bruce wince a little as he straightened up in his seat. Alfred only called him sir when he was annoyed by something he said or did, and looking down at the mess he made he didn't have to wonder what caused it this time.

"Sorry," Bruce murmured as he collected the potato peels and saved them so Alfred could use them in the garden. He didn't leave the kitchen, though. He came to stand as close to Alfred as he could without getting in the way and leaned on the counter.

The boys were all upstairs, hopefully not coming up with any elaborate and terrible plans for later. Bruce really didn't want to dwell on that thought.

"Do you think maybe inviting Clark over tonight was a mistake?"

Alfred turned then, an eyebrow arched. "Surely that was something to consider in advance and not mere hours before Mr. Kent's arrival."

"Maybe," Bruce admitted. "I just- You know how the kids can be. I don't want them to scare him away."

He knew the boys good enough to be nervous about this, and what he saw the last few days certainly hadn't helped ease his mind.

Jason and Dick must have gotten a last name that night because they not only were stalking Clark via social media, but had even taken the time to revise his Facebook history. He only found out that little fact when he caught sight of a photo of a younger Clark with an arm slung around the shoulders of a freckled boy with blond hair with what he assumed was his parents' farm in the background. The photo was on Tim's laptop and the post's date was 2012.

And while the photo had been interesting enough, it also proved Bruce had every right to be worried about today. His children could be scaringly good at something when they put their minds to it.

"Do you like Mr. Kent?" Alfred asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Sure," He said with a shrug. "He's someone nice to talk to and he's also smart and funny."

"Of course. And, do you wish perhaps to pursue a romantic relationship with him?"

"What?! That's not- We just met! I..." Bruce trailed off as soon as he saw the expression on the man's face. He could never lie to Alfred. "Fine. I like him and I want to see if this can go anywhere."

"I see," Alfred replied with a smile, making it clear he hadn't needed an answer from him. As usual. "And you don't think perhaps it would be best if Mr. Kent and the lads met now rather than wait. Unless you forgot to share your plans to send the boys away in the near future, of course."

Bruce shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. As if. Still, he couldn't help but think back to what happened with some of his previous relationships.

His relationship with Jezebel was pretty much perfect until he introduced her to the boys. They didn't end things right away, but it was clear from that moment that nothing was going to come out of it. Then, there was Selina. Contrary to Jezebel, Selina got along well with them- perhaps too well. She acted more like a friend, amused by their antics and sometimes encouraging them instead of helping Bruce keep them in line. She made it clear from the beginning she wasn't looking for a family or settle down, and yet, Bruce had foolishly thought they would be able to change her mind- at least until she up and left with nothing but a voicemail as a goodbye.

The boys didn't take it well, especially Jason, and even when she came back to the country and contacted him months later, Bruce tried to keep his sons away even if he was unable to do the same.

"I guess you're right."

Maybe it was selfish to want someone who accepted him (which was hard enough on itself) as well as his family, but he learned the hard way he just couldn't do casual. That and he wasn't desperate enough yet to wait until all of his boys went off to college to look for a relationship.

"Can you talk to them? I already asked them to be on their best behavior tonight, but they actually listen to you."

"I will speak to them," Alfred said with a nod. "Now I believe it would be best if you go and make sure they haven't gotten themselves into any trouble."

"If I must," Bruce said with a dramatic sigh, turning to leave the kitchen but not before catching a glimpse of the smile tugging at Alfred's lips.

Maybe this was a good thing, Bruce thought as he climbed the stairs. With his less than stellar track record, maybe it would be a good idea to let the boys vet anyone he was interested in before he got too attached. Or it could just end up in disaster.

Whatever the case may be, he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

* * *

Clark arrived exactly five minutes and forty-two seconds after the time they agreed on-

Not that Bruce was counting down the minutes like some lovesick teenager, of course. But he did resolve to keep an eye on the feed from the security cameras outside while he did some light reading in his studio. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of having any of the boys alone with Clark right now (even if it was just for a moment) so he was already on his way to the door when the bell rang.

He took a moment to fix his clothes and check his reflex in the mirror before opening the door to find a smiling Clark on the other side.

"Hey."

"Hello," Bruce greeted politely. His eyes were drawn to the white box the other man was holding, just for a second, before he moved aside to let him in.

Clark took a quick look around the large space as soon as he stepped inside, taking in the grand staircase to the right as well as the spotless pair of chairs and table lining the main entryway.

"I brought dessert," He announced abruptly as soon as Bruce turned around, holding out the box.

"You didn't have to," Bruce said but took the box anyway. Clark looked just as nervous as he felt and while Bruce couldn't say he was glad for it, he also couldn't deny it was a good thing. The knowledge that he wasn't the only one feeling like this ironically helped him relax just a tad.

"It's just a small pie," He said with a shrug. "It wouldn't be as delicious as the one my Ma makes since I haven't quite mastered her recipe, but it should be pretty good if I do say so myself."

Bruce looked back at him. "You cook."

"Yeah. I don't think Ma would have left me leave the house if I didn't," He said with a little laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Bruce could do nothing but stare at Clark.

He had known the man for two weeks now and he just kept finding more and more reasons to fall- to admire and appreciate him. He was caring and attentive, not to mention handsome, and now he cooked too. It was a combination that shouldn’t exist, and yet here he was with his beautiful smile and kind eyes.

It was a little intimidating, but it did nothing to quell Bruce's interest in the other man.

Bruce had to clear his throat before speaking. "Let me take your jacket."

"Oh. Sure. Thanks."

Only when Bruce had Clark's jacket in one hand and the pie in the other did he realize he couldn't open the coat closet with both hands busy. Because of course he had to look like an idiot in front of a man who was perfection incarnate.

"Here," Clark offered, taking back the box. "I'll help you with this."

"Thanks," Bruce muttered as he turned away. He really needed to get a grip.

"You have guts, I gave you that."

Bruce closed his eyes, allowing himself just a couple of seconds to wallow in self pity before closing the door and turning to see Jason and Damian walking closer.

"Jason," He warned.

"What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking here."

Bruce found nothing to say in response because yes, a part of him had expected Clark to change his mind about it the moment they parted ways that night. The thought had remained in the back of his head even minutes before his arrival today, so he looked away guilitly.

"Hi, Jason. It's nice to see you again."

The words were enough to pull Bruce out his thoughts and prompted him to act.

"You already know Jason and this is Damian, my youngest," Bruce introduced, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Damian, this is Mr. Kent."

For a second, Bruce was afraid Clark was going to try Damian like a little kid (which he was, of course, but which Damian hated) crouching down to shake his hand or, god forbid, even ruffle his hair like some people tended to do with kids his age. Instead, he saw Clark reach to shake Damian's hand with a smile on his face.

The boy continued glaring at Clark guardedly, but the introduction went better than he had hoped, so he sighed in relief, earning an amused snort from Jason.

Before things turned awkward, the sound of light footsteps approaching drew everyone's attention to the doorway as Tim appeared, the unexpected attention turning the boy's cheeks pink. "Hey."

"Let me introduce you to Timothy." Bruce turned to his son. "Tim, this is Mr. Kent."

"Um. Hi," Tim said with a little wave. "And it's just Tim."

"It's nice to meet you, Tim."

They watched each other in the uncomfortable silence that followed, ranging between suspicion, curiosity, and awkwardness, or in Bruce's case uncertainty as he racked his brain for something to say. It was so much easier to talk to Clark when the eyes of his children were on them.

"We should move to the dining room. I'm sure Alfred must have dinner ready."

"That's why he sent me, actually," Tim added helpfully.

Bruce nodded, ready to lead the way to the dining room before frowning down at the forgotten box in his hand. "Can you take this to the kitchen, please?"

Tim took the box with an undisguised look of curiosity and Bruce was sure he would be peeking inside as soon as he was out of sight. The boy never could resist even the smallest mystery. He turned to the two remaining boys once Tim left.

"Can you please go tell your brother dinner is ready."

Jason met his gaze for a moment before turning to Damian, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Come on, squirt. Let's get Dickiebird."

Bruce looked after the boys for a moment before turning to the other man with a thin smile. "This way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of interaction with the Batkids, I know, but the next chapter will fix that. This was also my first time writing Alfred/Bruce interaction, even though I've wanted to do it for a long time now, so I hope I did alright because Alfred is literally the best <3
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and don't forget to let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3/27/19 - The ending was changed just now because even though I worked on this chapter for _months,_ it was until now that I thought of an ending I liked. I couldn't help myself so I wrote it and here we are. Sorry for any inconveniences.

This was not the first time Clark had dinner with the family of the person he was going out with. Still, this was very different from the time he went to see Lana's parents as her official boyfriend at sixteen, after years of visiting the Lang farm as her friend.

And it was Smallville. Everyone knew each other in Smallville.

He dated other people over the years, of course, but things had never turned serious enough to meet the family- not that things were serious with Bruce.

He had never dated anyone with kids before (and four of them at that), so maybe things worked differently when you dated a dad. They knew each other only for sixteen days and the sum of their interactions consisted of a quick lunch, a dinner cut short, dozens of messages exchanged, and a couple of phone calls.

Sometimes the conversations were cut short when one of them got busy with work, or it took hours to get a reply, but it was worth it. They talked a little of everything for as long as they could. They talked about Bruce's kids, of course, but also about Clark's work and a little about Bruce's. They discussed articles printed on the Planet, and even spend a whole day messaging back and forth about a book that turned out to be a favorite of both after Clark made an offhanded reference to it.

He was quickly learning to love Bruce's dry sense of humor and sharp mind and growing more and more comfortable about sharing personal things.

It was refreshing to have someone he could talk to other than the people at the Planet, his parents and everyone else back home, but that wasn't all he wanted. Clark wasn't even sure if what they were doing could be called dating right now. Maybe they were just friends.

Clark hoped they weren't just friends. He hoped they were on their way to becoming something more, at least, and that was why he was so nervous about meeting Bruce's children and his 'kind of dad'. He doubted the man would be willing to pursue anything more if his family hated Clark.

Seeing where they lived certainly hadn't helped at all. He deduced Bruce had money the moment they met, but he hadn't expected this huge house like something out of a fancy magazine. He felt very out of place with his off the rack clothes and cheap loafers.

The food on the table smelled and looked delicious and perfect as they entered the large dining room, and Clark was just grateful his stomach didn't growl loud enough for everyone to hear. It had been months since he ate a homemade meal.

He met Alfred then, a British gentleman with kind deep eyes and graying hair. The boys showed up a moment later and settled in their respective seats. Jason took the chair to Bruce's left, followed by Richard and Damian. Clark was on Bruce's other side, then came Tim and Alfred.

"You remember Mr. Kent," Bruce prompted, looking in Dick's direction.

He nodded, smiling at him. "Hi, Mr. Kent."

"Hello, Richard," He replied, returning the smile. "You can call me just Clark, you know."

The older boy nodded before everyone's attention was stolen by the mouthwatering food on the table.

Clark felt the weight of several gazes on him the whole time, and yet nobody spoke. The silence was thick and heavy, the clinking of silverware the only noise heard in the room for several minutes.

The silence was somehow worse than being bombarded by all kinds of intrusive questions. Probably. He risked a quick look in Bruce's direction and found the man frowning down at his plate. He resisted the urge to kick him under the table to get him to do something and instead tried desperately to think of something to say to break the tension.

"I believe Bruce mentioned you're a journalist, Mr. Kent," Alfred commented before reaching for his glass of water.

Clark sent the man a grateful look. "It's just Clark, please. And yes, I am. I'm actually an investigative reporter, but I haven't gotten the chance to really act as such since I've been working at the Daily Planet only for a few months now."

"Aren't you too old to be just starting a job?"

"Tim," Bruce admonished.

"It's okay," Clark said quickly with a smile before turning back to Tim. "I guess I'm a bit old, yes, but I was born in Kansas and I worked on a local newspaper there until recently."

"What made you come to Metropolis?" Dick asked, looking honestly interested.

"One of my friends came to live here a few years ago and I guess she told me so many good things about the city that I decided to come here too," Clark explained. "Well, that and I wanted to work in the best newspaper and that's the Planet."

It wasn't much, but maybe his willingness to answer questions was all they needed before starting to fire questions one after the other.

* * *

Clark managed to relax a little as dinner went on, even if the questions never stopped coming.

He honestly wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but Clark had to admit this wasn't as bad as it could be. Sure, he was more nervous than he had been when he had his job interview with Perry White, and he had to stop himself from studying their expressions too hard in an attempt to determinate if his answers were good or bad, but at least the boys didn't seem to hate him off the bat.

Whatever happened tonight was going to define his relationship with Bruce, and he had to try his best to make a good impression on everyone. Still, it wasn't hard to soften up a little when he quickly realized they were all working together. In spite of what Bruce had told him about their different personalities or the issues they had been going through lately, they put it all aside for his dad.

Clark knew they were a united front _against_ him, but he still found it endearing. And he couldn't help but fall a little bit more for the man that evoked such protectiveness from all of his sons.

He was pretty sure Alfred was assessing him as well, even if the older man was much more subtle about it.

It was terrifying, but also kind of nice. Somehow.

As dinner progressed, he found out that Richard was easy with his smiles, but his expression turned thoughtful now and then as he listened. Jason's face was the most expressive, showcasing exactly what he thought of whatever Clark said with no shame. Timothy, on the other hand, had a great poker face. He was very polite, smiling along and listening attentively, but leaving Clark wondering if he actually liked him or not. Then, there was Damian. He wasn't really sure what to make of him. He remained mostly silent, but the deep green eyes that missed nothing were enough to make him nervous.

But Clark wasn't alone. He had Bruce on his side, and he had deftly intervened a couple times when things got a bit uncomfortable, even if he seemed just as curious about some of the answers too.

The wonderful food and the wine that accompanied it certainly helped as well, even if he didn't indulge much in the later. The food, though. Clark would have been too self-conscious to go for seconds if Jason and Dick hadn't done the same, or if Alfred hadn't seemed to read his mind and insisted he ate some more.

Whatever the dish was called, it was the first time he tasted it, and the quality and rich flavor almost rivaled his Ma's delicious cooking. Maybe it was even a tie- not that he would ever mention that to her. Ever.

The only lull in the conversation came when the time for dessert arrived. Alfred left the table, quickly followed by Dick and Damian as his helpers.

Clark met Bruce's inquiring look with a reassuring smile. He had the feeling Bruce was waiting for the moment his children were going to chase him away, and he couldn't blame him for it. They were pretty tough kids, and smart as well.

"Hey, Dad! Lucius is on the phone," Dick announced as soon as he re-entered the dining room, a stack of dessert plates in his hands. "It sounds important."

Clark barely held back a smile because he had been waiting for something like this. By the look on Bruce's face, he was far from surprised too and clearly didn't buy even for a second the innocent looks on his children's faces. He did warned him after all.

He could only look from father to son as they seemed to hold a whole conversation with just their gazes. It was very impressive if a little strange. He had no idea what they were saying exactly, but he didn't need to be the world's greatest detective to know what it was about.

Bruce turned to him with a conflicted look on his face. "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's okay. Go ahead." Clark smiled, adding a barely perceptible nod. He knew exactly what he just agreed to, and Clark wanted him to know that.

Bruce hesitated for a bit longer before turning to glare at each one of his sons, probably using that silent communication thing again. His expression was apologetic and pained when he looked back at Clark before leaving the dining room.

Clark had to stop himself from squirming in his seat as soon as Bruce was out of sight, and he turned to look at the three boys still in the room with him. Richard made quick work of setting everyone's plate in place before occupying his seat again and joining his brothers as they watched him.

The next part of the interrogatory didn't start until Damian appeared, of course.

Dick turned to him with a bright smile. "You haven't told us how you two met, you know."

Clark blinked in surprise. "We met in the park near the Planet."

"That's strange. Dad doesn't go to the park all that much," Tim commented with a frown.

"I guess he needed a moment to himself and the park was as good a place as any," He said with a shrug.

"Did he?"

"I-" Clark met a pair of dark green eyes. "He looked like he needed a break when I saw him, and maybe a good ear."

Jason leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "So you heard the old man complain about his brats and then asked him out?"

"He didn't complain about you," Clark corrected but forced himself not to add anything else. It wasn't his place. "And, um. I didn't ask him out."

Silence filled the room for a couple of second before Jason burst out laughing. Dick was shaking his head while Tim looked upward. Damian watched them all warily- and Clark was just confused.

"He asked you out after that. Of course he did."

"Um." Clark looked from Jason to the other boys, unsure what to say.

"Ignore him," Tim said with an eye roll.

"You like him," Dick declared, effectively drawing his brothers' attention back to the matter at hand.

Clark hadn't expected such a direct question, but he probably should have. These boys obviously didn't beat around the bush, especially when they knew their father would be back at any second.

"I do." Okay, these were the man's kids. Clark needed to be honest here. "I- you know better than I do how special he is, so there's no point in me talking about it. I've known him only for a couple of weeks now, and everything I've learned about him only makes me want to get to know him better."

"And you don't mind that he already has a family?" Tim asked shyly.

"What? No. Why would I mind?"

"Because being a dad is a full-time job. Because maybe you two will have to cancel plans when Dami gets sick and B has to stay home with him. Or he will be too busy taking Tim to the museum, or will get called away because Jason got into a fight at school."

 _"Or_ maybe he has to pick Dickface and his friends in the middle of the night because they got drunk at some party."

Dick's cheeks turned red. "That was one time, and it will never happen again because I know it was stupid. And that's not the point," He added with a glare in Jason's direction before turning to Clark. "The point is, there are only so many hours in a day, and they may not be enough. B is our dad and we need him. And then there's his job too.

"People he has dated in the past hadn't been very happy with that."

Clark fidgeted with his glasses as he took the time to think of the best way to answer. They deserved the truth, he knew that much.

"You all are his number one priority and I respect that. I actually don't think I would be interested in getting to know someone who had children and didn't think they were the most important thing in their lives," Clark added with a smile. "I know it's a complex situation and there may be bumps along the road, but I think it's worth it. _He's_ worth it."

No one of the boys said anything, all of them watching Clark. They wanted more.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but I hope you can give me a chance to show you I meant it when I say I would never try to take your dad away from you or anything like that."

Jason opened his mouth to speak but closed it without a word as he and his brothers tensed almost at once. Only then did Clark hear the approaching footsteps, and a second later Bruce was standing in the doorway, a wary expression on his face as he took in the scene before him.

"Hey, Dad!"

Bruce acknowledged the greeting with a nod but didn't say anything as he moved to take his seat again. His sharp blue eyes passed for every one of his children before they came to rest on Clark. "Everything alright?"

"Of course." It wasn't hard for Clark to answer with a smile seeing the innocent or nonchalant expressions the boys presented to their dad, as well as the unimpressed look Bruce answered with.

"How did your call go? Everything okay?" Tim questioned.

"I- yes. It's fine."

Almost as if on cue, Alfred returned to the dining room bringing with him Clark's pie and what looked like a tiramisu if he was not mistaken. It looked delicious, and after tasting Alfred's food he had no doubt it would taste even better.

He should have brought something else, Clark thought, hiding a grimace. Flowers or something. Now, not only did he have to worry about Bruce's sons accepting him, but also about Alfred disapproving of his culinary skills.

Well, there was nothing Clark could do about it now. Unless he was willing to try to get rid of the pie by dropping it or something like that, which he _absolutely_ was not. No son of Martha Kent would ever commit such unforgivable offense.

Dick's eyes widened as soon as he saw Alfred place the two desserts on the table, his eyes moving from one to the other in an almost comical way. "Alfie! You made pie too!? You're the best!"

Alfred smiled at him. "I appreciate the compliment, young sir, but I did not. It was Mr. Kent who kindly brought the pie to share it with us."

"Oh. Well, you're still the best."

Tim's curious eyes turned to him. "You baked it?"

"I did," Clark admitted bashfully. "I'm not as good as Alfred, of course, but apple pie is my ma's specialty and I used her recipe. I hope you like it."

"You didn't poison it, did you?"

The simple questions brought a plethora of exclamations.

"What!?"

"Of course not!"

"Jason!"

"Whoa."

"Jay!"

"Jeez, I was just kidding," The boy replied, huffing as he rolled his eyes.

A tense silence fell around the table as it was Jason's turn to have a silent conversation with his father, while everyone around either looked between them or smiled apologetically in Clark's direction. The eye contact lasted longer this time, but it was Jason who looked away first.

"I'll have a slice."

"Me too!"

Clark offered both boys a grateful smile as they managed to break the tension of the moment and get everyone's attention back to dessert. There were only a few words exchanged as pie and cake were cut and served to each person on the table.

"Not bad," Jason admitted after taking his first bite.

Bruce and Alfred shot the boy matching disapproving looks, but rather than feel offended Clark was relieved. It was a compliment and he took it as such, especially with the wary way the other boys tasted it too, except for Damian. The youngest had his fork poised but paused to look at his brothers in confusion.

"Sorry about that, but Dad has made us very cautious about the things we eat."

"Right! Remember the time he made me a tuna fish sandwich? Ugh!"

"Boys," Bruce warned, a faint blush turning his cheeks pink.

"He needs to know this," Dick told his father before turning to Clark. _"Never_ eat anything cooked by Dad, no matter how it looks. It could save your life."

"Alright," He agreed with a tiny chuckle, turning to look at Bruce only to find his head was bowed and his knuckles were white from the tight grip he had on his fork. It took him a second to realize he must be embarrassed to have his children sharing that with him.

Clark didn't know what to say to make it better, especially with everyone else around, so he just bumped his leg under the table and offered him a reassuring smile when he looked at him.

Bruce blinked a couple of times but eventually answered with a smile of his own. It helped Clark relax a little too before looking around the table.

He did his best to reassure the boys and went along with what they asked and would continue to do so, but the final decision was up to them. The only thing he could do now was enjoy the rest of the night and hope for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, Alfred was well aware of the boys' plan, and he may or may not have been listening in. He's very protective of his boy as well. 😉 Also, [the tuna sandwich incident](http://chaosreigning.tumblr.com/post/131961716774/detective-comics-685) is actually canon.
> 
> I'm so, sorry for the late update, but this chapter was a total nightmare to work in. I lost count of how many times I rewrote or scraped bits of this and even now I'm still not happy with the way the chapter came out. To be honest, I just wanted to get this over with once and for all, so I'm sorry if this sucks. Juston't be too hard on me, please.
> 
>  _But,_ the good news is that while I was stuck with this chapter I worked on the next one, so it should be finished a lot sooner. Thank you all for the comments and kudos!


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